


Slow Dancing in the Dark.

by xhyejinx



Category: The Monkees (Band), The Monkees (TV)
Genre: Adopted Children, Alternate Universe - 1970s, Alternate Universe - Children, Alternate Universe - Parents, Angst and Romance, Bars and Pubs, Coffee Shops, Drinking & Talking, Drug Use, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Internalized Homophobia, Kid Davy Jones, Kid Peter Tork, M/M, Music Store, Period-Typical Homophobia, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Acceptance, Self-Hatred, Slow Burn, Smoking, Teacher-Parent Relationship, Time Period: early 1970s
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:14:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22885360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xhyejinx/pseuds/xhyejinx
Summary: When I'm around slow dancing in the darkDon't follow me, you'll end up in my armsorMike is having a hard time accepting who he is but then he meets Micky, a modest 1st-grade teacher, who helps him slowly fall back in love with life.
Relationships: Micky Dolenz/Mike Nesmith
Kudos: 14





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> hey everyone ^^ i hope you all enjoy this!! i've always been into an angsty story and i think micdolenz perfectly fits it!  
> thanks for reading!

Being a single parent was one of the most difficult responsibilities that mankind was burdened with. Yes, there were many parents out there who were able to raise their child to adulthood, yet, the main struggle was getting there. Children were forces to be reckoned with. They were free souls with pure thoughts of the future while the parents struggled with paying the bills every month. There were so many worlds that could be explored as a child, magical kingdoms with dragons and wizards were calling their names. Who wouldn’t want to save a princess in distress?

The possibilities are endless as a child, you could run around the neighborhood with your friends as long as you’d like, saving the day from villains or fighting beasts who threatened your wellbeing. You could set up a dollhouse and control your own little world, create impossible scenarios that would only make sense to you. As a child, the swingset was _your_ best friend, you could fly wherever you wanted, the sky was the limit as they said. Why wouldn’t you want to keep such beautiful memories? Being a child was so fun! No one told you what to do unless your actions were wrong. Sure, your parents had a reason to get mad at you for breaking grandmothers vase with a baseball, but it’s not like their punishments were long-term. You’d just get a slap on the wrist and be told never to do it again and then you’d be off playing baseball again. Being a child wasn’t that bad, right?

Then why was Mike still hung up on that idea?

He was an adult. A fully-functioning, bill-paying adult. He didn’t have to go to a school of any kind, only work. No late nights doing homework, no homecoming dances with bad music, no tests to flunk. Nothing. 

If being a child was so fun, then shouldn’t being a parent to one be?

Mike had thought about this constantly. Why?

Was it because of his inability to love? His lack of attention he received as a child? The amount of money in his pocket? What was it? Mike couldn’t pinpoint an exact reason.

If Davy was happy, why wasn’t he? Children were supposed to give adults an extra reason to smile in the morning. They didn’t have to think about work or money around kids, except when it came to birthdays or Christmas, just having fun and using your imagination.

Maybe Mike was overthinking. Yeah, that’s probably it.

Okay, from here on out, Mike was going to stop overthinking. Easy-peasy.

Right?

It was a new school year and the cool August weather welcomed the children with slightly oranger leaves and insects crawling everywhere. Davy was excited to start a new life at his new elementary school. He recently moved due to uncooperative conditions at his old school (which we’ll get into later). Mike was excited about the new opportunities Davy would encounter. The previous half of the year was unnecessarily stressful, so with a new job and school, maybe something good will come out of it. Perhaps maybe isn’t the best word to use, _hopefully_ better described Mike’s feelings.

Mike adopted little Davy when he was three-years-old, so it’s not like it was a big secret that the two weren’t related. You could also tell from the difference in their _thick_ Texan and British accents.

Everyone loved Davy. When taking the little guy out, all the neighbors would stop their chores just to say hello; it got to the point where it became a little annoying. Davy was the main light in Mike’s life, the kid always put on little dramatizations of the stories he was reading when he felt like his father was feeling down some days. Mike couldn’t help but crack a smile after that.

It was 8:45 on a Monday morning, the beginning of a new week. Mike held Davy’s hand tightly as he walked the small boy down the sidewalk, which led to the new school. Davy couldn’t help but talk about all the adventures he would get into at school, all the new friends he would make, and all the teachers he would learn from. Again, Mike couldn’t help but crack a smile. He couldn’t help it. Stopping at a crosswalk, Davy continued to ramble on about _everything_ , Mike carefully watched the traffic and the man directing cars down the street.

“Now, Davy,” spoke Mike, sternly “what are some of the most important things you should keep in mind during this new school year?” They proceeded to cross the street, both thanking the policeman who was taking time out of his morning to direct the youth to a bright future.

Letting out a cute, little sigh, Davy tried to think of all the things his dad told him the night before, “Uhm, be nice to the adults? If there’s an emergency go to Milly? Don’t cause a scene?” Mike chuckled, taking those options as an answer because he couldn’t say no to Davy’s precious, little face.

“Well, yes, but you forgot some,” they were both in front of the school building, hundreds of children were running around the property with their parents lingering not far behind. It felt so chaotic yet peaceful at the same time. Sure, children screaming wasn’t the nicest sound that early in the morning, but it helped both of them feel at ease for a moment before taking the giant step into the next part of parenthood.

“Just remember that your daddy loves ya’,” Mike said in a tone where his accent was very thick, it made Davy giggle sometimes “just don’t cause trouble, okay?”

“You got it, daddy!” cheered Davy, reaching in and giving his father a tight leg hug. Davy was very short, people told Mike that his son would be a tall giant, but, he’d beg to differ. He escorted his son up the steps of the building and made sure Davy made it to his classroom alright before he headed in the opposite direction towards work. Before quitting his last job, Mike applied to work at this cafe-music store, it wasn’t too far from the neighborhood and in walking distance to Davy’s school. Despite being self-explanatory, the concept of a coffee shop that also sold music was very new to some people, but for Mike, it was love at first sight. For the most part, he was going to help kids pick out guitars and the other instruments that he had a vague memory of learning when he was younger (but he mainly knew how to work guitars).

When the man entered the bustling store, he traveled to the backroom to put a few personal items away and grabbed the newly released records to put on display in the store. 

As he exited the back, he was greeted by his employer and a bright smile. “Glad to see you here early, Mike!”

Chuckling, Mike stopped to chat, “yes, didn’t want to be late to my first official day working. I had to drop my son off before walking over here.”

“Oh but I bet he’s a bright fella’! Just let us know when you’re picking him up and we can have John cover for you,” says his boss, continuing to give Mike a friendly smile.

“You got it, miss,” replied Mike with a nod; his boss chuckled at his accent as everyone else did. Everyone loved Mike, it was mainly because people in Los Angeles never heard someone from Texas speak to them before, but the man was a hard artisan. You could easily tell by his work ethic, Mike only wanted what was best for him and Davy.

One of the reasons Mike decided to work at the Café Flower was for his love of music. Ever since he was young, he wanted to be a musician. Throughout high school, he was always playing the guitar, traveling from bar to bar, asking if any of the acts needed an extra player to perform with. Luckily for Mike, he scored quite a few successful gigs with local bands. At the age of twenty-six, it seemed like there wasn’t going to be another chance to enter the industry; his candle was starting to burn at both ends.

C’est la vie as they say.

The morning hours at the cafe were not too hectic, a couple of teens came in searching for, as they said, “the best shit in the 20th century”. Mike didn’t judge, he loved rock and roll too. He also helped some adults pick out instruments for their rebellious children, it reminded him how happy he was with a six-year-old. But the older adults warned him that an “uncontrollable” phase would come soon. By lunchtime, Mike became exhausted. It was hard trying to please and meet the needs of strangers!

Sitting down with a fellow co-worker, the two ate and chatted about their lives, music, and unrealistic opportunities that they prayed would happen. Mike talked about how he and his son had been living in Los Angeles for around three years. It was a big jump from Houston, but he was starting to enjoy it more and more each day.

“Sounds like you have a whole autobiography full of stories,” says John, he was a fellow barista at the cafe, in fact, he was the one who helped Mike get the job.

“Yeah, sounds ‘bout right,'' Mike let out a low chuckle as he continued to eat his food.

“Why did you leave?” his friend inquired “if I may ask that is?” Mike didn’t exactly know how to answer that. There were a lot of reasons why he left his family in Houston. “Wife not treating you right? Mom and dad wouldn’t get off your back?”

“Uhm, family problems,” Mike’s answer wasn’t wrong, he just didn’t want to relive the pain of why he left “it’s too problematic to get into, so I’ll spare you.”

“Hey buddy, if you need someone to talk too, I’ll be here for you,” John’s honestly makes Mike crack a little smile. He wasn’t looking for reassurance, just love.

After that, they quickly finished eating so they could both get back to work. Mike kept his eyes on the clock, Davy needed to be picked up for 2:45 that afternoon and it was already 12:54, so he still needed to keep his mind set on helping people.

The bell had already rung for dismissal and Davy was still waiting. Playing on the swingset got boring after going back and forth for ages, so he decided to trek back into the classroom for his dad to pick him up. “Hi again Mr. Dolenz,” Davy greeted his teacher very grimly as he dragged himself back inside.

“Davy, what are you doing back inside?” his teacher questioned, not expecting his student to return.

“My daddy isn’t here yet,” pouted the little boy as he sat down at his assigned desk from earlier.

Not expecting this kind of situation on the first day, his teacher got up from his desk to comfort the sad child. “Don’t worry, Davy. Cheer up!” he said to the little boy with a bright smile “I bet your dad will be here any moment now.”

Nothing seemed to help. Davy was still pouting.

“Hey! How about we play a game, aye?” said his teacher.

Davy turned his head to the older man “what kind of game?” he asked with a pout still lingering on his face.

“How about you tell me about your day. Tell me about all the kids you met and what you learned about them, okay? How about that?”

Davy was hesitant at first, he tried to think of all the answers to the questions that were given to him. He gives his teacher a nod and soft smile before returning the answers that were asked of him. Before he is even able to respond, Mike dashes into the door frame, panting from all the running he did to get to school.

“Daddy!” exclaimed Davy with a beam. He got up from his seat and ran towards his father, wrapping his arms around Mike’s legs. “Mr. Dolenz, my daddy’s here!”

“I didn’t mean to be this late,” Mike apologized to Davy and the teacher.

Not expecting to be greeted with a thick, Texas accent, Davy’s teacher gave the pair multiple looks before standing up to greet the adult. “I’m Mr. Dolenz, Davy’s teacher for the school year. You must be Mr. Nesmith, right?”

Turning to Davy’s teacher, Mike gives a quick nod, “yeah but you can just call me Mike. I lost time at work, I promise you that I’ll never be late again.”

Smiling sweetly at the parent, the teacher shook his head, “oh it’s okay, I’ve run into this situation before. Don’t stress over it, Mr. Nesmith.”

“You can call me Mike, it’s okay,” looking down at Davy, who was leaning against Mike’s leg, waiting to leave, he cast another grin towards his teacher “thank you again for looking after him, I know he gets a little rowdy when I’m not around.”

“Oh no worries, I enjoy cheering up the kids,” smiled the teacher “I assume that’s why they have me around” he gives a weak chuckle. It _wasn’t_ awkward.

“Daddy, can we go?” Davy whines, grabbing ahold of his dad’s sleeve and pulling on it, hinting that he was hungry for an after school treat.

Nodding, Mike and the teacher exchange good-byes before heading on their way. On the way back to the cafe, Davy talked non-stop about his first day and all the kids he met who were stoked to have a student from across the pond (the children only knew that because the teacher told them).

It made Davy ask, “is mummy like me?”

Mike was too nervous to answer that. He can’t tell his child that he had no mother.

“Of course, baby,” replied his father in a nervous search for something to reply.

“Is she back in England?” asks Davy.

“Uh, yeah,”

Then Mike was reminded about how much he hated lying.

Like at school, Mike’s workmates instantly fell in love with little Davy (it was definitely the accent). Everyone awed at the way he pronounced small things like “sweets” and “coffee”, they couldn’t help it, the cafe wasn’t so used to having six-year-olds invade the space. Mike bought Davy a snack and soda to enjoy for the rest of his shift, he let him sit at a table and told Davy to do some of the school work that the teacher asked him to finish that evening. There were no complaints.

As he organized records and price tags, another co-worker came up and asked about the little boy who was sitting in the corner.

“You never told us that you had the cutest little boy!” exclaimed Sarah, one of the girls who helped sell musical stuff to people “I bet that wife of yours must be very proud.”

Giving an awkward chuckle, Mike turned to look at the woman, who just so happened to be very beautiful. She sported the short, curly, brown hair cut that many women on the Los Angeles streets shared; that made her tan skin stick out. Her figure was slim, yet curvy, the clothes she wore helped show them off. Overall, she was a sweet person to talk with—you could say she was the whole package. “That’s very sweet of you to say, Sarah.” However, he couldn’t bring himself to smile.

“Why the frown? Did I say anything wrong?” she asked very worriedly.

“No, I s’pose it’s my fault and ability of loneliness,” he replies with a soft shrug, trying to lighten the mood “‘fraid to say there is no Mrs. Nesmith, my dear.” As he said this, he cast Davy a look. The boy was drawing in crayon on his paper. It hurt Mike when he said there was no one else to help take care of Davy. No matter how many times he prayed for someone special to come into his pathetic life, the more he realized that those dreams would never come true.

“I-I am so sorry to hear about that,” apologized Sarah “if you want to talk about it, know that I and the other staff members are here.” Mike was getting tired of hearing that expression. It wasn’t his fault that a higher power placed him in this world to be unlovable.

They continued organizing in silence.

After his shift was over, Mike and Davy headed back home. It was such a long day for both of them, but in the end, it was a great adventure. Davy was stoked to go to school the next day and Mike couldn’t wait to sell more records and instruments to people. They hoped that their lives would be perfect from now on.

This time, Mike came on time to pick Davy up; his first instinct was to run into the classroom, where only one child and his teacher resided. The two turned to the father who came in unexpectedly.

“Well, it’s great to see you again, Mr. Nesmith,” chuckled Davy’s teacher as he straightened himself up in his seat “are you looking for Davy?”

Mike nods at the teacher, “yeah, I thought he would be in here, but it seems not.”

“I believe he went outside on the playground,” his teacher turns to the only kid in the room and asks for the boy to get Davy. The little boy nods and waddles out the door to the playground. Like last time, there was more silence. It _still_ wasn’t awkward.

“He wasn’t a bad kid at all today?” asks Mike to rid the room of silence.

Chuckling, the teacher shrugs, “I am very surprised at how mannered your boy is, Mr. Nesmith. Guess those English genes in him really kept your family in shape.” Mike gives the teacher a nod and a sheepish smile. “Speaking of, what’s with the accents? Kind of strange that his father is a well-mannered southerner—you are from the South, right?—if I can ask.”

“No, yeah, ‘bout that,” says Mike rubbing the back of his neck _awkwardly_ “Davy and I are not technically blood-related.”

“Family inheritance then?”

“Oh, no, I adopted him ‘round years ago,” Davy’s teacher said nothing other than an embarrassed “oh”. Two children ran back into the room, one being Davy, relieving the adults from anymore small talk.

“Daddy, you’re here!” exclaimed the six-year-old as he skipped over to his father with a bright smile.

“I know you’ve probably heard it a bunch from me already, but thank you for watching over Davy,” praised Mike, he knew he couldn’t continue rambling on and wanted to end on a positive note.

Trying his best to stay humble, his teacher shook his head and gave the two a dismissive wave, telling them it was nothing and teaching Davy was always such a pleasure. Saying their goodbyes, the two men parted ways and went back to dealing with their personal lives.

Yet, secretly, they yeared to see each other once more.

Mike took Davy back to work and repeated the process from Monday: buying a snack and soda for the afternoon and getting schoolwork done in the corner of the cafe. Davy was watching the way his father interacted with other adults and he theorized what they were talking about. His vision then went to the instruments behind all the grown-ups, they looked so cool and edgy; he wanted to touch them. But he knew instantly that his father would yell at him. So he ignored the idea and went back to doing his work.

As Mike’s shift was coming to an end, the sun was sitting on the horizon, waiting to set and let the moon come out. He was flipping through the newly released records, making a mental note of the ones he should invest in once he gets paid before continuing on and checking if all the instruments were neat. A co-worker approaches him with a pamphlet in their hand, telling Mike that there was a bar not so far from this area looking for instrumentalists to perform with rock and roll bands. Thanking his friend, the man examined the slightly crumpled up paper, wondering if he should take some time off work to audition. It was obvious that it was one of Mike’s dreams to perform with underground bands until three in the morning, but would take care of Davy? Who knows if he had enough money for a babysitter. Maybe he could ask someone who worked at the cafe to take care of his son. So many unnecessary questions began to flood Mike’s head, it was too much for him to handle. He folded the poster up and put it in his back pocket before signing out for the evening and took Davy home.

They made a small dinner and decided it was okay to watch a movie on a school night, despite it ending way past Davy’s bedtime. Mike took Davy upstairs into his bedroom and tucked the little boy under his blankets.

“Daddy, can you read me a nighttime story?” asked Davy, who was also yawning as he requested to be read a story.

Mike gave a quiet chuckle as he smoothed out the blankets on the small mattress, “mister, you should be in bed going to bed. I think it’s too late for a story.” Davy tries to protest but his father doesn’t budge in having a change in heart. “I can read you one tomorrow night, sound good?”

Davy blinked for a moment as he thought about the offer; when he came to a conclusion, he nodded his head rapidly, “pinky promise?” The small boy extends his hand out with his pinky finger exposed and waited for his father to do the same.

Mike smiles and interlocks his pinky with Davy’s, agreeing that tomorrow night he’ll read a nighttime story, “night buddy, sleep well, okay?” Keeping the smile spread across his cheeks, he leans in to place a small kiss on Davy’s forehead, it made both parties feel serendipitous. He turns the lights off and heads out of the room, leaving the door cracked open just a little bit, letting the light from the hallway peak into Davy’s room. Davy had a smile fright of the dark, so Mike made sure to leave a nightlight on every night.

The rest of Mike’s evening was uneventful, he boiled some tea and enjoyed a book by the window until nine-thirty, but then he was reminded of his adult responsibilities. So he heads off to bed soon after. Lying in bed that night, Mike felt alone. It wasn’t like he despised nor invited it, it’s just that he didn’t _want_ loneliness anymore. However, due to the way Mike was set, it seemed that solitude was set in stone for the rest of his days. The last time he had a stable relationship was in high school with a nice girl named Donna. Everyone thought they were perfect, but in the end, they withered away like a rotten rose. Yet, there were days where he wondered where she was or if she made it out alright. Mike decided to stop thinking so much, it was distracting him from getting well-deserved rest.

Yet, in the back of his brain, the thought of Davy’s teacher was still lingering around.


	2. two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im back with another chapter! enjoy ^^

With October approaching, the leaves became crunchier and the weather got cooler; it was time for iced coffee and pumpkin-flavored food, which Mike personally did not favor. However, Davy always asked for the pumpkin cookies at the cafe. It was his favorite time of the year and Mike would be lying if he said Halloween wasn’t the best holiday. On the weekends, Davy would create leaf piles with the other kids in the neighborhood and jump in, making the parents sweep them up afterward. They couldn’t ask for anything more, everything was perfect.

When Mike picked Davy up one afternoon, he was informed of multiple opportunities for his child. Turns out his teacher believes that Davy has enough talent to audition in the school play they were going to put on during the winter season. Mike was even flattered. Aside from the play, he found out that parent-teacher conferences were coming up, meaning Mike would have some time alone with Davy’s teacher for thirty minutes. He tried to not get exhilarated about it in front of his child.

“So what do you think about that, daddy?” asked Davy, the two were walking down the streets of Los Angeles, heading towards Mike’s workplace. It was a beautiful day that Tuesday afternoon, the sun was high in the sky and leaves were being crunched by the other people walking down the sidewalk.

“Sounds good, babe,” replied Mike with a firm nod, trying not to imply that he was distracted by something. “I have to work late tonight, so Milly is going to pick you up. Is that okay with you?”

Davy hummed quietly, giving an extra squeeze to Mike’s hand, “are you going to be gone a long time, daddy?”

“No no! I’ll just be home later and I know that you love to hang out with Milly,” says Mike and Davy soon shrugged and agreed with his father. Following the same spiel from the past few months, they placed Davy at a table where he could do his homework and then Mike could help customers. He felt bad for leaving his son behind that evening, but he needed to make up for extra hours that day and working until 8:00 was his only solace. Around 5:30, Milly came to pick Davy up, she promised to make him a delicious dinner and that he would be tucked in bed by the time Mike arrived home. This gave him a bit more reassurance.

It was getting late, the sun had already set and the sky was dark, the cafe had already closed but they kept the music store open until 8:30. They knew that people weren’t going to be searching for coffee late in the evening. Mike and another employee were left to fend for themselves. A customer would come in every once in a while to check out new records to collect but only 25% of those customers would purchase something.

Mike had gotten bored by this point, he kept his eye on the clock so he could be out the door by the strike of 8:00.

“Hey, bud, I’m heading to the back to restock on guitar picks,” said the other employee, “care to defend the store while I’m gone?”

“Sure, go ahead,” Mike replied with a shrug. He watched the other man head into the back room and then shifted his eyes back to the clock on the wall. It was only thirty minutes away from 8:00; he hoped that it wasn’t behind. Mike was caught in his thoughts when the bell on the door rang, signifying that there was a customer who needed to be tended too. The man’s natural instinct was to say: “welcome to the Café Flower, is there anything I can help you with tonight?”

When Mike turned to look away from the clock, he was met with a familiar face. A face who was stuck in the back of his brain for the past few months. A face that was so  _ handsome. _

“My, my, my,” said Davy’s teacher with a big chuckle, “what a surprise it is to see you here!” The man seemed to be very ecstatic, as he gave Mike the brightest smile.

“What a pleasure to see you here Mr. Dolenz,” Mike gave a nice smile back, “anything in particular that you are looking for?”

Leaning against the same counter Mike was, the teacher gave the other man a look, “please, you can call me Micky, there’s no need to be formal anymore is there? But, I want to know if you have any cymbals for drum sets? I’ve been searching everywhere and other stores don’t have any or if they do they’re expensive as hell.” Micky went on and on, however, Mike listened through the whole rant, “You get what I’m coming at here? It’s capitalism at its worst!”

“Totally man,” agreed Mike, but he didn’t know where the conversation was at this point, he just kept looking at Micky and nodded, “capitalism is a slippery slope.”

“Exactly!” exclaimed Micky, however, he spared a rant this time, “enough about capitalism, let’s talk music, shall we? I need to replace a cymbal on my set, kids these days don’t know how to leave my things alone.”

Nodding with a plain look, Mike knew what words would woo the teacher, “well, it pleases me to tell you that we have fairly-priced cymbals. Let me show you.” He gestures to the other man over to a region in the store that was specifically for drums and percussion. Micky would be lying if he said that he wasn’t impressed.

“My, you have quite the selection,” the man breathed out, nodding at the choices before him.

“How long have you played the drums for?” Mike asks, quite curious to learn more about the teacher.

Micky turned to Mike with sparkling eyes, “oh since I was a rambunctious teen. Parents couldn’t get me away from the loud things so they let me go berserk in the basement with mufflers on.” That made Mike chuckle.

“How about you? I would assume a worker here should know how to play a thing or two,” Micky pointed out as he crossed his arms across his chest, turning his full attention to Mike.

Mike had to give an awkward shrug, “I only really play guitar, nothin’ special.”

“Whadda mean “nothing special”? So many people out here are looking for guitarists, man your name should be on the billboards!” Micky laughed and gave the other man an inspirational smack on the arm. It made Mike flinch slightly, but he gave a quiet laugh to go along.

“But, anyway, I’m no drums expert,” said Mike to rid the atmosphere of this thought of him being famous, “just let me know what you need and I’ll make sure you come home with a new pair of cymbals.”

“Yeah, my sons in the car and I don’t want him waiting any longer,” chuckles Micky, “he may come in here any moment whining about how I took too long.”

On cue, a little child came marching into the store with a pout across his face. He obviously was not pleased with waiting.

“Daddy! You’re taking forever and I’m hungry!” exclaimed the kid, he was on the verge of crying.

“Hey, kiddo!” greeted Micky, giving the youngster a bright smile, “daddy’s almost done in here and then we can go get dinner, okay?”

The kid continued to pout and gave a nod, then wandering off to look around what the store had to offer.

Giving a sheepish smile, Mike says “kids, am I right?” to break the silence. Since it  _ still _ wasn’t awkward. Micky gives a nonverbal response as he picks out his cymbals, informing the other man that he was ready to check out.

“How much?” asks the teacher.

“If I’m right, fifteen dollars,” replies Mike, he can see the amount of displeasure in Micky’s face, “if the money’s tight I’ll sell it for ten.”

Micky shakes his head vigorously, “oh no, I can’t let you do that—”

Mike gives the man a dismissive wave, “it’s no biggie, besides that little kid of yours was practically begging for a discount.”

“Come on buddy,” argues Micky, “I don’t wanna cause a scene and get your manager involved.”

Mike chuckles again, “oh please, would you just accept the discount, the manager doesn’t need to know anything.” He gives a reassuring wink, flustering the teacher.

“Well, if you insist,” the other man gives up and begins digging for his wallet that was stuffed in his back pocket, pulling out a few bills and change and placing them on the counter. The kid from earlier waddles over to the adults, watching their interactions carefully in hopes of copying them in the future.

“Need a bag for that?” Mike asked, it was a natural instinct at this point.

Micky shakes his head, “I got a bag in the car, but thanks for asking.” He takes the box into his hands, making sure to hold it tight, “I’ll see you at parent-teacher conferences, right?”

Mike had nearly forgotten about that, “yeah, I’ll be there. You can count on it” he sends a reassuring grin to Micky. The teacher gives yet another grin and says a quick goodbye, parting ways until they would meet another time. Mike watched the two hop in the car and drive off to somewhere in L.A. 

He wondered where they lived.

Mike got home at 8:15, Davy was already in bed and Milly was keeping dinner warm for the other adult’s return. How could anyone refuse Milly’s dinner, she was the best cook in the neighborhood. She cooked up soup and ham, since she was aware of how much little Davy loved it, and kept the rest for herself and Mike. He was so ecstatic to have a warm dinner waiting for him at the table, Milly truly spoiled him.

“Davy wasn’t a hassle this evening I hope,” Mike said as he sat down at the small table in the kitchen, assuming that he wouldn’t get an earful about how disgraceful his son was.

The woman gave a light chuckle as she gazed at the younger man, “oh don’t get your hopes up, he’s delightful to watch. I can tell you’re raising him well, don’t think that I’m not keeping an extra eye on you two.”

Mike gives her a content smile, letting himself swallow before speaking again, “he tells me you're the mother he never had.”

“When did he say that?” she asks in a very bewildering tone

“A few weeks ago when I asked you to babysit,” Mike replies, letting his answer seep into the quiet room, “yanno, Milly, you really mean a lot to Davy an’ I. We don’t know what we would do without you; you’re our saving grace.”

She gives him a dismissive wave, “oh spare me all that. I got nothing left to do but keep my eyes on you two! Who else is gonna do it?” Mike keeps a smile plastered on his face as he continued to eat and let her talk. “Even though that kid is pushy and  _ too _ enthusiastic about certain things, I can tell he has a lot of respect for ya’, I can see it in the way he watches you. Micheal, he wants to be like you, can’t you see it?”

Mike puts down his spoon and gives her a soft look, “I see it all the time, Milly, I just don’t want him ending up like me: lonely and incapable of love.”

“Oh don’t give me that!” the woman hollered, “maybe if ya’ put yourself out there, then you wouldn’t be lonely! Ask a nice, pretty lady out from work and see how it goes.”

“What if Davy doesn’t approve?” the man asked, pouting slightly.

Milly chuckles, “well that’s his problem! I’ll keep an eye on the kid when ya’ go out.”

Maybe she was right, maybe Mike did need to branch out and meet a nice lady. It was his own fault that he was too shy around new people, hopefully, he could change that in the next week. He was determined to branch out to the people at work, even though he was aware that they already liked him.

To his surprise, when Mike arrived at work the next morning, he was informed by his manager that a gentleman had asked for him and was waiting in the café. Mike didn’t know what to expect, he was shocked that someone had even considered enjoying coffee with him in the morning. Holding two, hot cups of joe, Mike placed them at a table where an older gentleman sat. The man was nicely dressed, his suit looked freshly steamed, there wasn’t a crease in sight. Mike couldn’t remember the last time he wore a nice suit like that.

“Uhm, I’m Mike Nesmith, sir,” he says quickly, “I was told you were asking ‘bout me earlier.”

The other man glances up at Mike and then gives a firm smile, “Mike, it’s nice to meet you!” he stands up from his seat to shake the Texan’s hand. ‘What a firm handshake,’ thought Mike.

“Please sit down!” The man radiated an immense amount of kindness, it put Mike off just a little bit. They both sit in the chairs across from each other and the other man starts talking right away, “the name’s Don, I run a music bar down the street from here and I’ve been looking for more musicians to play for me during the evening. I sent out a notice about it a while back and got a memo from your boss saying you were an extraordinary pick.”

Mike could barely comprehend the words coming out from the latter’s mouth, it took him a moment to respond, “well, sir, I am very flattered.”

“You should be!” replied Don, taking the opportunity to drink from his mug of coffee, “what instruments ‘ya play?”

“Mainly guitar,” answered Mike, copying the man’s actions and taking a sip of his coffee, “but I’ve been playin’ since I was young, I know all the chords by heart and can play more than just the Beatles.”

“Fantastic! Got any lyrics to go along with these tunes?” the other man asks, genuinely intrigued. The amount of enthusiasm continued to frighten Mike, questioning if what was happening was actually occurring and not a dream.

“Only a couple of songs, however, I don’t think they’re fantastic,” Mike didn’t say that just to get some sympathy, but rather because he believed. He could pinpoint all the faults in his life and explain why they’re valid; maybe that was his problem. The amount of skepticism Mike had bottled-up inside was unreckonable, he  _ truly _ believed that there was nothing perfect about his personality.

“Oh, I don’t believe that!” laughed Don, taking a second to put down his mug, “look, how about you send in some stuff me alright? I’ll take a look at them and if I like ‘em, then I’ll show them to the bands and if they like it, you’ll perform with them. Sound like a deal?”

Without hesitating to think, Mike nods his head profusely, “y-yes sir! We have a deal here!”

“Wonderful! I can’t wait to see what you got!” Don extends his hand out and shakes Mike’s hand firmly, “here, take my card and call  _ anytime _ if you have any questions, got it?”

Mike nods again, “of course, thank you so much,” and gives a warm smile. They shake hands again and the other man goes on his way, leaving Mike to ponder all morning.

Later that day, Davy reminded his father that parent-teacher conferences were the next day; Mike hadn’t forgotten. He was very intrigued to meet Micky once more, perhaps too intrigued.

“Davy, how would you feel if your daddy became a musician?” he asks his son out of the blue. They were walking home together after a hard day’s night. 

Davy only shrugged, “I think it would be pretty cool. I would show your album off during show-and-tell,” He giggles, bringing a warm smile to Mike’s face. Nothing made him happier than seeing Davy happy. “Why do you ask, daddy?”

“Well,” Mike didn’t exactly know how to phrase his answer “someone offered me a spot to play the guitar at a nightclub.”

“What’s a nightclub?'' asked Davy, the look of innocence in his eyes.

“Well it’s like a coffee shop but they’re only open at night,” he wasn’t wrong though, just kept the conversation kid-appropriate.

Davy nodded and continued to hold his father’s hand as they strolled down the street, as he did not know what else to talk about. They arrived home and Mike quickly made dinner, he wasn’t really an expert chief, only being able to do what the directions said.

“What time are parent-teacher conferences tomorrow?” asked the older man, he was putting away the dishes and wanted to get an answer out of Davy before putting him to bed.

“I think Mr. Dolenz said they start right after school,” replied Davy, yawning directly after his answer, “why do you keep asking about it, daddy?”

Mike chuckles and ruffles up Davy’s hair, purposefully avoiding his question, “it’s almost past your bedtime little guy.” His son laughs and runs upstairs to change into his pajamas and brush his teeth. When Mike finished cleaning the dishes, he heads upstairs to check if Davy actually did his nighttime rituals. To his surprise, he finds his son cuddled up in bed.

“You promise you did everything in your ritual?” asked Mike, sitting on the edge of Davy’s mattress to tuck him in.

Davy nods, “yes daddy! Now, can I get a nighttime story? But this time, can you sing me a song?” Well, that was new.

“A song? Where’d this idea come from?” Mike asked as he smoothed the surface of the sheets.

“I just wanna hear you sing to me,” Davy gives his father doey eyes, begging to not be told the same bedtime story again. This convinces Mike to proceed into his room and return with his guitar, prompting the boy to cheer.

Mike pulls up a chair, “whatcha wanna hear, kiddo?”

“That song I always hear you playing,” Davy pulled the covers over his little body and made himself comfortable. Mike hums as he gives an awkward nod as he tried to figure out how to play an upbeat song slower. He begins to play some chords on the guitar, making sure to not play them super loud, and then began to sing:

_ “She looked at me _

_ And the emptiness in her eyes was cruel to see _

_ Then she turned away and said _

_ “Once I loved, but love is dead” _

_ And I whispered, “Sometimes love is only sleeping” _

The song quickly put Davy asleep. Mike watched the smaller boy’s eyes flutter shut as he sang, it was peaceful to keep his eyes on. His fingers leave the strings as he stands up to place a kiss atop Davy’s forehead and then turns the lights off as he leaves. The man leaves his guitar in his room and heads downstairs, determined to organize his lyrics so he could send them to Don. A majority of his songs were love songs that he wrote in high school, it’s not like he was a Lennon-McCartney. He kept all his lyrics in a small notebook and hid it in a spot where Davy wouldn’t find them. Should Mike mail the whole notebook? Probably. He made sure to label the journal with symbols, indicating the songs he felt were the strongest or the best before it placed it in his bag and head off to bed. In the morning, after dropping Davy off at school, he mailed his notebook in a large, yellow envelope, making sure to write a small note to Don before sending it off. Doing that lifted some pressure off his chest, he wasn’t exactly sure why it made him stressed, but Mike felt like he was taking a grand step onto the next part in life.

Whoever’s higher power it was, he felt like they were leading him in the right direction of life, it put Mike in a better mood. When he entered the café, he greeted and gave everyone working a bright smile, only to receive the same back.

“Mornin’ Sarah,” he grins at the woman who was working behind the counter, “anythin’ need restocking?”

The aforementioned woman turned to him quickly with a bright smile, “Hey Mike! Mind restocking the sheet music? I was just told we got a new shipment of them.” Mike gives a firm nod and heads off to do his bidding.

Mike was anxious about meeting Davy’s teacher, he wasn’t exactly sure why. The man felt so much adrenaline rushing within his system as he traveled down the street by his son’s school. Maybe he was just nervous, who knows. Mike promised himself that he would stop overthinking, now would be a great time for that, but he couldn’t prevent it. His mind was inevitable.

Before the man knew it, he was next in line to greet Micky.

‘There’s no need to be scared,’ he told himself ‘just talk about Davy and there won’t be an issue.’ Speaking of, Mike wondered where his son was. He was probably with Peter, Davy’s best friend whom Mike had never met before, they were apparently inseparable. Davy never brought any of his friends home nor did he go over to another person’s house; now that Mike thought about it, he found it slightly weird.

As he was caught in his thoughts, the door opened and a parent left the room, bidding her goodbyes to the teacher as she left. Mike enters the room, shutting the door before he was met face-to-face with the  _ handsome _ teacher.

“Mike! Great to see ‘ya,” greeted Micky, a bright smile spread across his face.

“Those cymbals treatin’ you alright?” Mike chuckles, giving the other man a firm handshake before he sat down.

Micky nods, “they are working better than the last set! I cannot thank you enough for it—but enough about me—let’s talk about Davy.” The teacher grabs a labeled file from his desk and opens it up in front of Mike, “in the classroom, Davy is very vocal and ecstatic, and I’m not saying that’s a bad thing but sometimes it can get out of control. However, I think he has so much potential and energy to be in the school plays, has he ever expressed any interest in acting?”

Mike nods as Micky spoke, it took him a second process everything, “uhm, yeah, Davy has shown interest in joining the school play. He told me about it early this week and he seems to be very enthusiastic about it,” This made Micky’s eyes light up.

“That is fantastic to hear!” exclaimed the teacher, “I’ll make sure to give him the handout tomorrow. Next thing I want to talk about are his friends, does he ever bring home people from his class or—?” he trails off, giving Mike a worried look.

The other man shakes his head, “Davy talks about all the nice people in his class but the only name I hear is Peter, however, I’ve never met him before.”

“Peter?” Micky furrows his brows at the mention of the name, “Peter, as in, my son Peter?”

Mike shrugs, “is your Peter the only Peter on the roster?”

“No, there’s at least two Peter’s in my class,” says Micky, continuing to look through Davy’s file, “I can look into it later and get back to you. Anyway, in class, Davy is very outgoing with his other classmates. He doesn’t shy away from helping them out.”

Mike nods, that sounded about right.

“I can tell he gets that from you,” Micky says, offering Mike a soft smile, “you said he was adopted, right?”

Mike was unsure if that conversation topic was legal to discuss, but he wasn’t afraid to talk about his father-son relationship, “it took me a while to finally get everything in order with him, but yeah, he is. Davy knows but it’s sometimes hard for him to understand it.”

“What do you mean by that?” asked Micky.

There was a simpler way to answer the question, “that he doesn’t have a mother. I mean, even though my neighbor basically treats ‘im as her own grandson, there isn’t anyone else he can call ‘mom’.”

There was some silence, Mike’s answer gradually evaporated in the air.

Then, Micky began to speak, “I understand how you feel. In fact, that’s sort of how I’m living now,” he gives the other man a sympathetic look, a look where you could see the pain in his eyes. No man should have to go through this.

“You do?” Mike blurted out, swallowing harshly.

“My sister sadly passed away after giving birth to her son,” Micky began, “then a while after she died, her husband couldn’t handle the pain and disappeared. We don’t know what happened, but I took in Peter after that and it’s been like that for the past six years.” Mike couldn’t help but get hit with a wave of melancholy, he had gone two months of not knowing any of this. He slightly felt responsible, yet, he knew that he had no control over the past or the actions of others. 

“I am terribly sorry about your sister,” lamented Mike, there wasn’t anything else he could express other than sorrow.

“No, it’s okay,” Micky gives Mike another pleasant smile, “I’m just glad that I could finally express it to someone.” His hand inched closer to Mike’s, his fingertips brushing against the other man’s knuckles. The sensation jolted throughout Mike’s system. He craved this kind of sensation, yet was too worried to ask for it. Out of trepidation, the Texan quickly removes his hand from the table and places it in his lap, awkwardly swallowing.

“Uhm, well, I’m glad to hear that Davy is excelling with you,” Mike sits up straight; he doesn’t look Micky in the eyes this time.

“I’m just happy to have a bright student,” says Micky, there was a hint of sorrow in his voice.

Both men concluded their meeting, ending it with a firm handshake and a nod to bid their goodbyes. Mike went off to find Davy and Micky continued his meetings with the other adults.

They  _ swore _ that there wasn’t anything awkward between them.


	3. three

It was Thursday afternoon and the store was packed with young adults trying to see if they could get ahold of the newest and hottest albums. The traffic didn’t slow down until 3:30, to which Mike had to rush over to Davy’s school so the kid could be picked up. He rushed upstairs to Micky’s room, in hopes that his son would be waiting there.

“Is Davy in here?” he peeked into the room, noticing that his son wasn’t in the classroom.

Micky looked up from his papers, “I think he’s outside with the others.” 

Mike then laughs out of embarrassment, “oh well, but, while I’m here I was wondering if I could ask what your Saturday plans are?”

“Well, usually Peter and I just chill and do nothing,” replied the teacher, “why do you ask?”

“Do you know of the Big Pint? It’s a bar near my work,” Mike inches closer to the other man’s desk, awkwardly sticking his hands in his pocket.

Micky gives a little nod, “yeah! I know of it, never been though.”

“The owner reached out to me and told me that they’re looking for guitarists who want to perform with bands,” explained Mike, he was trying not to trip over his words, “so on Saturday, he asked me to play with one of the groups all evening.”

Mike watched Micky’s face light up, “that is great to hear! I told you that you were meant to be a star! What time does it start?”

Mike’s cheeks heated up slightly, “Oh, not until ten,” he wasn’t used to this sort of praise and approval. Like last time, two children ran into the room, they were laughing and scurrying around the class; the two were probably playing tag. It made Mike happy to see Davy laugh and smile, he was the light of his father’s world. Davy notices Mike and then runs toward him, attaching himself to the taller man’s legs.

“Daddy, you’re here!” beamed Davy, he gave his father a cute smile.

“Sorry, I’m late again,” Mike apologizes “work was busy today.” 

The other child runs over to Micky and placed some acorns on his desk, giving a cheeky smile before he ran back to Davy.

“Tag, you’re it!” exclaimed the boy.

“Come on!” pouted Davy, “You must be joking, I thought we weren’t playing anymore, Peter.” The aforementioned boy laughed and mimicked his friend’s accent.

‘So that was Peter,’ thought Mike. He seemed to be a very bright child, bringing this extra gleam into Davy’s eyes and whatnot. They were constantly laughing and running around each other, going on adventures to defeat dragons and so on. It gave Mike a new sense of hope, knowing that his son was actually happy and not putting on a face just to please him.

“Oh Peter, be nice to Davy,” announced Micky “what’s the rule we use?”

There was a displeased look on Peter’s face, “Dad! Davy and I were just joking around!” Micky continued to give him a displeased look. “We treat others the way we want to be treated.”

Mike turned to the teacher and brought back their conversation, “so I’ll see you on Saturday? I mean, I completely understand if you can’t make it.”

“Well,” Micky began, “Peter’s gonna need a babysitter and she’s out of town-”

“Davy and I could sleepover!” interrupted Peter, giving his father a big, bright smile in hopes that the two kids could hang out.

Mike nods, “I have a babysitter who watches Davy and I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t mind keepin’ her eyes on these two.”

“Yeah!” exclaimed Davy, “Her name’s Millie and she’s amazing! She’ll make us dinner and even tuck us into bed!” This description made Peter’s eyes glisten, the two boys began going back and forth about all the trouble they could get into with their fathers gone.

The two men laughed; it was probably the most sincere laugh they had in ages.

“Okay you two,” Mike said, trying to calm down the storm, “let’s not stress the adults here.”

“Daddy, can I sleepover at Davy’s?” Peter was begging at this point, “Please!” Micky couldn’t resist those adorable eyes, so he chuckles and gives his son a firm nod.

“Only on the terms that you behave,” Micky says, crossing his arms, “think you two can handle that for us?”

Both children nodded ecstatically and continued to give their parents wide-eyed, happy faces. Mike and Micky were doubtful that their kids would get into trouble, the little ones (hopefully) understood the level of trust that was expected of them.

“See you Saturday?” Asked Micky with a sharp grin.

Mike nods, mirroring the grin as he ruffled Davy’s hair, “You bet. It’s the Big Pint at ten, you’ll enjoy the show.”

Like every other day, they parted ways, yet, were thrilled at the thought of seeing each other on the weekend. Mike wondered if Micky was secretly a party animal, teaching is a pretty tiring job. He shrugged and ignored those thoughts for the rest of the evening.

He hoped the Micky would be waiting for him.

Mike arrived at the bar early that evening, he had to practice and prepare with the other band members (and possibly get a bit tipsy before the show). They weren’t going to perform until ten that evening, the acts before them would hopefully hype up the crowd. From what the man heard, ‘Cathedrals Of Green’ were introducing a new wave of alternative-rock in the pubs; Mike thought their sound was quite revolutionary. Most of their performances that evening were covers since they knew that the crowd would know the songs, however, they planned on slipping some original music in the mix. They hoped it would gain them new listeners.

As Mike was tuning his guitar backstage, with the rest of the band, he was praying that Micky would be there to see him play. He made it his number one priority that evening, yet, he wasn’t exactly sure why. Mike wanted to shine for the audience, even though this was the band’s event, not his, but he didn’t want to feel like a footnote. He felt important that evening and he wasn’t going to let anyone take that feeling away from him.

As the night dragged on, the band could hear the crowd growing louder and louder, they all begged for the show to begin as a child begged for dessert. The night was still young, as Mike’s watch read eight forty-five, they still had another hour before performing. He hoped that Micky was in the bar waiting for him.

“‘Ey, Nesmith,” one of the men called out, “You seem anxious, man. What’s the deal?”

Mike turned to the other men and instantly inhaled the rough scent of smoke, it’s not like he wasn’t used to it by now, but, he just preferred to not be lit before a show. “Oh, I’m just waitin’ on a friend,” he says, “He told me he’d come to watch our performance.”

“Aw, don’t be anxious, man,” replied another member, who was fiddling with his bass, “I’m sure he’s gonna be in the audience.” This assured Mike a bit more, yet, at the same time he was still worried. He shouldn’t be, though, Mike told himself that there would be no more overthinking. The Texan thanked the band members for their words of encouragement and pushed away his thoughts for the rest of the evening.

The time came for the band to finally perform, there was a strong stench of adrenaline (it was most likely the drugs) and it provided Mike with an extra kick. He wasn’t exactly sure what the extra kick was, but it was giving him confidence. They all waited by the stage, the host was about to announce them, but, he was hyping up the crowd first. Mike hoped that Micky was there, awaiting the band’s performance.

“And, now, please welcome to the stage, Cathedrals Of Green!”

After that was kinda a blur for Mike. He remembered strolling on stage, the lights staring him down and limiting his vision; after that, it went by so quickly. The last thing he heard was their keyboardist yelling: “And special thanks to Mike Nesmith for playing the guitar with us today!” But judging by the cheers, he assumed that the crowd loved their performance.

The band head backstage after playing for more than an hour, they were sweaty and exhausted, although, the night had just begun. After chugging down glasses of water, they all head to the bar for drinks, hoping to get drunk quickly. It was a special evening, so Mike should drink a little, he just didn’t want Davy to seem him hungover the following morning. The crowd was chaotic, everyone was tipsy and/or stoned, Mike felt a little uncomfortable in this environment. The last time he was in a bar like this was during high school.

“Mike!”

The man was caught in his thoughts when Micky called his name out, so he quickly turned his attention to the crowd in hopes of finding the teacher. He scanned the cluster of adults, not spotting Micky until he skimmed for a second time.

“Man, you were great!” the teacher exclaimed, he was leaning in close to the other man’s face so they could keep a conversation, “You and the band performed so well! I don’t think I’ve heard ‘Riders on the Storm’ covered  _ that _ terrifically.”

Mike couldn’t help but blush, “You’re just sayin’ that to be nice.” He turns away and takes a sip of the beer that the bartender just gave him.

“No! I’m serious!” Micky said in his defense, “Come on, don’t deny it.”

“Alright, fine,” the Texan shrugs and turns his back to the bar to look at the crowd, “Can’t believe this many people came to see our show.”

“It’s because you are all great performers,” replied Micky, repeating Mike’s actions, “Hey man, I don’t know if you smoke or whatever, but this guy gave me a good stash if you wanna...use it later.”

Mike was hesitant to answer right away, “Uhm, I mean, I’m not opposed to it. I jus’ don’t want you to smoke it all yourself.”

Micky laughs, “That’s why I’m offering some to you! I don’t know if I could smoke all that alone.” 

Mike laughs too, “You know what then? I will enjoy a smoke with you later, I don’t see the problem.”

“There he is!” Micky exclaimed, “There’s our party animal. Let’s drink to it.” The teacher grabs his glass off the counter and gives a toast, “To success,” they clink glasses and drink away for the rest of the night.

The pair were so tipsy that they called a taxi to take them back to Mike’s house, while Micky’s car was still parked near the bar. They were so out of it that one of them nearly tripped over a trashcan. Continuing to cling to one other, Mike stumbled as he led the other man to the back porch where they could enjoy a smoke. Finally being able to lay down on the grass, the men stared at each other and laughed like mad rabbits. They felt so alive that night, it was the first time Mike had ever felt alive in years.

“Yanno, I was once offered to smoke with Paul McCartney,” Micky said with a wide grin spread across his face.

“No you didn’t,” Mike replied, giving the other man his complete attention.

Micky nods, “Don’t know if it was a bad trip or anything, but I  _ swear _ he offered some to me and we enjoyed it together.” He begins to laugh hysterically, it makes Mike laugh too.

It became quiet again.

“God, we’re a mess,” Mike exhales loudly as he let out a breath of smoke.

“Nothin’ wrong with that,” answered Micky, “Everyone’s a mess, some are just crazier than the others.” He laid back in his seat and stared up at the dark sky. It was just so mesmerizing to admire in that state of mind. “You wanna know something, Mike?”

Suddenly curious, the aforementioned man nodded, “Of course I do.”

Micky turns his head towards the other man and gives a pleasant smile, “I’m glad we met.” He let his words sink in for a moment, but, there was still more he wanted to share, “It’s just our sons get along so well and I’m happy to see Peter enjoying his childhood. I only want what’s best for him, yanno?”

“Of course,” agrees Mike. They sat quietly once again, acknowledging that it wasn’t awkward between them anymore.

“Do you have siblings?”

“Nope, I’m an only.”

“Well, try imagining what it’s like to have three younger sisters,”

Mike tried to, but couldn’t, as he was too discombobulated to do so, “Sounds rough, man.” He didn’t know what else to say. So, he just let Micky talk, there was no need to physically understand his struggles but he mentally able to. The experience was overall overwhelming. Tears began to fall down his cheeks.

“Mike?” Micky looks at the other man, “Is everything okay, man? I didn’t mean to put all this on you, I’m sor—”

“N-No, you don’t need to apologize,” Mike said as he tried to wipe his tears. There were just too many for him to wash them away, “It’s just—you’ve been the most welcoming person and I—” He continues to cry, being unable to contain his emotions (or sentence), the whole catharsis gave Micky an extra reason to wrap his warm arms around Mike.

Uttering quiet, reassuring words, Micky tried his best to calm the other man down, “It’s okay. You can let it all out.” And Mike continued to do so. Micky didn’t, or wouldn’t, let the other man out of his embrace. His life depended on keeping Mike warm and comforted.

His cries got quieter and his curiosity urged him to sit up and stare into the dark ocean he referred to as Micky’s eyes. Mike’s stomach turned, he felt sick, but in all the right ways.

“Are you okay?” Asked Micky in a whisper tone.

Mike continued to stare and gave a lazy nod, “Yeah.” That made Micky smile.

“You know,” He paused, trying to collect his thoughts, “You can talk to me about anything.”

The other man scoffs, “Don’t say that.”

“What?”

“You don’t know what I’ve been through.”

It was silent again. They were too nervous to speak, in fear of what the other would say. Mike ruined everything, didn’t he? He made it  _ awkward _ again.

“I’m sorry,” apologized Micky, “I understand that you’ve probably been through a lot and there is nothing I can do to change it. But, what I can do is help you forget about those times. That’s what your friends are here for.”

In a way, his words were moving. They reassured Mike that there was some kind of hope over the metaphorical rainbow. The man gives another nod, “Thank you,” he mumbled, looking off to the side.

Micky smiles, extending his hand towards Mike’s, that was lying in the grass, calling to be held and warm. The Texan blushes at the sudden touch, yet, doesn’t retract his hand this time: he envelopes the company that he had been yearning. At this point, Mike, for the first time in his life, could finally able to grasp his loneliness and tell it that it didn’t deserve a place in his life anymore, they were done. He felt so liberated to finally kick it out for the first time, there was no one to stop him.

“What are you thinking about?” Inquired Micky, he got tired of the silence. “You look so invested in your thoughts.”

“I’m just thinking,” Mike replies, “Thinking about loneliness and that you helped me kick it out of my life.” Those words resonated with Micky, it made him smile as he started to stare at the ground. As he continued to look at the grass, the thoughts that were tucked in the back of his brain made their way to Micky’s consciences; he was suddenly aware of what he wanted. He inched closer to Mike, to the point where the only thing they could see was each other.

“What are you doing?” the Texan whispers, swallowing, his pride, thickly. 

Micky doesn’t answer. His eyes flutter as he leans in closer, the amount of space between them bothered him.

“Micky,” Mike whispers again, his voice moving freely through the air.

“Mike,” Micky says softly, a grin spreading across his cheeks as he continued to lean in; Mike couldn’t help but do so.

“Wait,” Mike spoke quickly before the spark in them ignited, “Can I kiss you?”

Micky couldn’t help but chuckle, “Isn’t that dumb. Of course you can, dummy.”

The fire that was waiting so long to burn inside them suddenly burst in flames; sparks flew. There was no going back, only moving forward, in hopes that the fire wouldn’t burn out anytime soon.


End file.
